


Wrong Address

by zeilfanaat



Series: Language Series [7]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Jack O'Neill knows more than he lets on..., Smart Jack O'Neill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 16:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeilfanaat/pseuds/zeilfanaat
Summary: #7 in the Language Series. Daniel becomes suspicious upon finding a letter written in another language… addressed to a certain Air Force officer.





	Wrong Address

**Author's Note:**

> #7 in the Language Series, preceded by Homework Secrets, Family Secrets, A Birthday Colonel, Comfort Food, Cultural Exchange, and Coded. You don’t have to read those in order to understand this story though; nor are they in chronological order. 
> 
> Thanks to DorothyOz for looking this over!

It wasn’t often that Daniel found himself in Jack’s office. Usually, Jack would have found his way to Daniel’s office well before the linguist/archaeologist might have needed to get a hold of the Colonel. Admittedly, that was mostly due to the fact Daniel would get so absorbed in his work that Jack would come and remind him about getting something to eat. So Daniel could ask any profound questions he had for his friend during their shared meals. 

And if Daniel really did have to find Jack, his office was probably the last place to look for him. 

Yet, here he was. Apparently, General Hammond had Jack working on the quarterly budget reviews. Joy. When Daniel had realised this, he’d weighed up whether he really needed Jack’s signature at this specific point in time. He’d even considered going to General Hammond for the signature. Unfortunately, no matter how many alternatives Daniel thought of, it still came down to one conclusion: he did need Jack’s signature, and he did need it _now_. Great. 

So with a sigh, Daniel resigned himself to disturbing his undoubtedly irritable friend. He knocked on the door with some trepidation. 

“Enter.” 

The short, growled order reached Daniel’s ears, just as he thought that perhaps he should have brought Sam or Teal’c as backup. Too late now. 

Carefully he peeked around the door. 

“Oh eh, hey Jack,” Daniel stammered, when he saw the death glare that Jack generally only tended to give the Goa’uld and sometimes the Tok’Ra… and apparently quarterly budgets. 

The look mellowed somewhat when the Colonel caught sight of who had interrupted his efforts to get through this distasteful task. 

“Hey Daniel,” still came out as a growl, though Daniel noticed that the tone seemed to surprise Jack himself somewhat. The Air Force officer made a visible effort to make his voice a little more welcoming. “What can I do for you? Don’t tell me it’s time for dinner yet.” Jack’s gaze darted to the clock. Nope. He should be so lucky. 

“Eh, no, no, not yet. I just need your signature on… this.” Daniel held up a folder, then noticed he was still loitering in the door opening in an instinctive move to stay away from danger. Apparently Jack had noticed it too, as he raised one eyebrow. Ah well, if he was caught in the act, he might as well go for broke. “Is it safe to enter?” he asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He was pretty sure that Jack wouldn’t tear into him with explosive frustration, or he would have done that already. Probably. Maybe.

Jack narrowed his eyes, and Daniel was starting to reconsider the odds. 

“That entirely depends on whether or not that folder contains anything budget related,” Jack said with a deceptively soft voice. Daniel winced. Why had he waited until the last day to get Jack’s signature on this? If only he had asked him earlier this week… Unfortunately, he really needed it today. 

“Eh, well, that is somewhat subjective. From an anthropological perspective, this has nothing to do with monetary values. In fact, its cultural worth far outweigh-”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, before he interrupted the archaeologist’s spiel. “Alright. Just… put it in my inbox.”

Daniel eyed the overflowing inbox and felt his heart sink. There was no way Jack would reach his request today if he’d have to wait for the other man to get through what was already there. 

“Eh, I eh… I kind of need this today.” He was a dead man. How many times would that make it? 

Jack groaned. “Of course you do.” He glared at his friend who was still closer to the door than he was to the desk. Rolling his eyes, he held out an impatient hand. “Fine, give it to me.” 

Daniel couldn’t quite believe his luck, and he hurriedly handed over the file. Then he awkwardly stood before the desk. For once he wondered if perhaps it would be easier if he had been a soldier. Then at least he would have known what to do with his body. 

Jack opened the folder and glared when he saw how many pages of writing the request entailed. And as much as he’d love to just simply put his signature on the dotted line to get it over with, he knew he couldn’t do that. Noticing that Daniel was still standing, he waved at his visitor’s chair. “Have a seat. Just… put whatever’s on there on the floor.” He’d put some non-urgent stuff from his desk on the chair so he had room for all the budget-related files. 

Daniel nodded, glad for the offer. He picked up the stack of papers and leaned down to set them on the floor. Unfortunately, the stack started to slide sideways. Daniel tried to stabilise it, but his attempt came too late. “Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll ehm, I’ll get it resorted.” 

Jack barely looked up, his focus on what he was reading. “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t in any particular order anyway,” he said absent-mindedly. 

Relieved, Daniel set his mind to just put the papers back together in a stack. He was almost done when one particular piece of paper caught his attention. A letter had slid partly out of its envelope. He would have just put it back in, if the writing hadn’t automatically registered and set off an alarm. 

Could it be that Jack had kept this a secret? From him of all people? 

Somehow, in the silence that now consumed the office, Jack must have picked up on the fact that something had caught Daniel’s attention, because he looked up with a frown. 

“Daniel?”

“Eh, what?” Daniel asked, looking up from the half-visible piece of paper. 

“Something wrong?” Jack asked, once again raising an eyebrow. 

“Wrong? Well, eh… You tell me.” Daniel’s mind was breaking speed limits, going off in all directions, to provide possible explanations. So he did what he did best when trying to find answers: he jumped in with both feet. “Why is this letter in Russian?” 

Jack’s other eyebrow now joined the other. “Russian?” he asked, a blank look on his face. 

“Yeah.” Daniel was watching his friend carefully, trying to spot the lie…if there was one. And there had to be one… right? “This letter here. Look.” Daniel held up the item of interest. 

A look of realisation came over Jack’s features. “Ah, that one.” He huffed. “Wrong address.” 

Daniel wouldn’t give up that easily though. “You already opened it.”

“Didn’t check the envelope before opening it,” Jack dismissed. Daniel turned the envelope over and looked at the addressee. 

“But, it is addressed to Colonel J. O’Neil-”

“Yeah. O’Neil. One ‘l’.” Impatience started to return on Jack’s face. “I’m pretty sure I told you, there’s another J. O’Neil in the Air Force, only with one ‘l’ and no sense of humour at all.” With a grumble, he added, “Figures he’d be the one with Russian connections.” 

Right. No love lost between Jack and Russia. And yes, Daniel remembered Jack complaining about the other officer now. Still… “And they sent this to you… by accident?” 

“It’s happened once or twice before,” Jack said, annoyed. “I’ll figure out later where to send it. Not really a priority right now.” He once again glared at his desk. Which reminded Daniel that, when it came to budget reviews, that second ‘l’ really didn’t make a difference, and he should probably stop pushing. At least, if he wanted that request signed. 

“Right, okay.” Daniel said, nodding and looking around. “So ehm, I’ll just…put this back,” Daniel finished lamely, carefully putting the letter back in its envelope, and then returning it to the pile.

“Thank you,” Jack said with a tinge of sarcasm, returning his attention back to Daniel’s request form. 

While Daniel was waiting, now quietly sitting in the visitor’s chair, he was entertaining the thought of Jack pulling the wool over his eyes on this one. As exasperating as he could be, Daniel knew there was a keen intelligence hiding underneath several layers of put-on obtuseness. It wasn’t really that much of a stretch for Jack to speak another language, right? Years of Special Ops… Was it possible that Jack O’Neill spoke Russian? 

However, Jack hadn’t reacted strangely at all when confronted with the Russian letter. And Daniel had been looking. 

Glancing sideways, Daniel studied the Air Force officer, who was squinting at the papers before him. It almost looked as if his eyes were glazing over a little. Huh. He hadn’t gone into that much detail, had he? He’d only written down the essential information. Must just be the fact that Jack had been looking at figures for hours on end. This conclusion was confirmed a second later when Jack pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose again. Yep; Budget Review Syndrome. Par for the course. Just like the rest of Jack’s behaviour so far. 

Adding up all the signs, it appeared that Jack was telling the truth.

The few words he’d read from the letter didn’t really help, one way or the other. It had seemed pretty normal, and nothing had jumped out that said Jack was the intended recipient. 

Jack _had_ mentioned and complained about the humourless Colonel O’Neil-one-‘l’ before, and this letter was definitely addressed to O’Neil-one-‘l’. And it wasn’t beyond the realms of likelihood that a letter like that was delivered to the wrong O’Neil(l). Besides, they’d had interactions with Russians before, and Jack hadn’t understood them then either. 

It was almost too bad, Daniel thought wryly. He could have had so much fun, teasing his friend. Although, in all fairness, Daniel guessed the teasing would come after a period of being thoroughly miffed – if not a little hurt – at the man for keeping something like that from him. Still, there would have been teasing in spades. Unfortunately, it apparently was not to be. Not concerning Russian language capabilities at least. 

“Alright, Daniel. Here’s your file back. Signed and all.” 

The gruff voice brought Daniel back from his musings, and he blinked, automatically accepting the proffered file. He’d completely missed Jack picking up his pen and signing the form, but sure enough, there was Jack’s signature. 

“Thank you,” Daniel said. 

Jack waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re buying dinner tonight though,” he added as a warning. 

Daniel grinned. Small price to pay for not getting his head ripped off while still getting his request approved _while_ Jack was doing budget reviews. 

“Deal.” He turned to leave the Colonel to his much-hated task.

“Oh, and Daniel. Next time, write it in English, please.” 

Daniel blinked. “It was in English,” he protested.

“Uhuh,” Jack said, “for archaeologists perhaps. But if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d have to displace too many papers right now to find the dictionary, I would have been thoroughly tempted to look up at least a third of those words you wrote there.” 

A grin started to inch onto Daniel’s face. “Only a third?” he teased. 

Jack sent him a glare, but it was much less heated than the one Daniel had received upon arrival. “Whatever, just go and bamboozle someone else.”

The grin was now full-fledged. “See you at dinner, Jack.” 

The Colonel just shook his head in reluctant amusement. When the door closed behind Daniel though, Jack turned his attention back to the pile of paperwork he still had to work through, and sighed deeply. Well, at least for dinner he could forget all about finances. 

He hated budget reviews.

* * *

At the end of the day, he finally pushed himself away from his desk. He wasn’t completely finished yet, but the rest could wait till tomorrow. He stood and stretched out, flinching when multiple muscles complained at their enforced inactivity. Definitely time to head out. He headed towards the door when he noticed the envelope that had piqued Daniel’s interest earlier. 

He should probably put that away somewhere safer. Just because Daniel had somehow miraculously refrained from actually reading beyond those few words he’d seen, didn’t mean others would be quite so principled. Of course, he could always throw them off by using the same excuse he had used earlier. He was grateful that he hadn’t had to resort to other techniques, because Daniel was annoyingly good at reading him. If he’d suspected that Jack had been spinning a tale, the archaeologist would have sunk his teeth into the matter like a dog with a bone. So, Jack was glad he hadn’t been forced to lie. 

No better excuse than the truth. 

Because it was the truth. 

The letter _was_ addressed to O’Neil-with-one-‘l’. And O’Neil-with-one-‘l’ really did not have a sense of humour, simply because, back when he’d _been_ O’Neil-with-one-‘l’, there had been nothing humorous about the situation at all. That undercover op – if you could call the improvised use of the misprinted Military ID a cover – could definitely have gone better. Its successful conclusion was more due to luck than skill, and he’d needed both of them in buckets to get through the op alive. It was a miracle that to this day, his by the seat of his pants alias had held up against scrutiny. 

Yet one good thing had come out of it: his Russian contact. He might even go so far as to call him a friend. Face-to-face contact was close to nil, and they weren’t exactly exchanging birthday cards either. But they made sure the other knew how and where to contact them, if necessary. Which was basically what this letter was: a moving announcement of sorts, carefully woven into the Russian prose. Jack picked up the envelope and put it in his pocket. He knew that later on, the letter would find its way to his fireplace. And then he’d send his own reply as a ‘housewarming gift’. 

It was time to brush up on his Russian. 

But first: dinner with Daniel.

* * *

Daniel had invited the rest of the team to dinner as well. He’d been uncertain as to whether Jack’s Budget Review Syndrome had worsened after he’d left, and decided it couldn’t hurt to have some backup available this time around. When Jack joined them at the diner, Daniel was pleased to see that the Air Force officer did not seem to be too grouchy. At least, not beyond the limits of what a team meal could cure. Good. 

Daniel asked Sam and Teal’c about their days, and before long, Jack joined in in the conversation, even if he was a bit more quiet than usual. They ordered their meals, and while they were waiting, their drinks were served. 

That’s when Daniel noticed a gleam entering Jack’s eyes. He had no time to ponder its meaning though, as Jack held up his beer bottle and spoke one word.

“Nastrovje.” 

Wait. What?! Daniel was suddenly thrown for a loop as doubts came rushing back in. 

Sam looked at Jack with a question in her eyes. “You speak Russian, Colonel?” 

“Yes, I do.” Jack smiled, nodding emphatically. Daniel’s eyes almost popped out. Teal’c raised an amused eyebrow. 

“You speak Russian?!” Daniel repeated, almost accusingly. 

“Uhuh,” Jack nodded again, still smiling. Then he held up three fingers, counting them off as he continued, “Da, nyet, and most importantly, nastrovje.” 

Teal’c actually guffawed. Sam rolled her eyes, but smiled. Daniel felt annoyed… mostly at himself for falling for it. “Ja-ack!” he complained. 

“Da, Daniel?” Jack replied, looking at him innocently. Daniel stared at his friend for a second, noticing the twinkle in his eyes, and decided that it was okay to be at the butt end of the joke if it meant his friend had shaken off his bad mood. 

He gave his friend a wry smile and raised his own glass. 

“Nastrovje, Jack.” 

Jack’s smile widened, and Daniel felt the edges of his own lips curve further upward as well. Definitely worth it. 

Sam and Teal’c joined in with the toast, and soon they had moved on to other topics to discuss. 

Jack leaned back, contently sipping his beer. It might have been a gutsy move on his part, but having seen how it removed the lingering doubt in Daniel’s eyes, he could only conclude that it had been the right move. After all, their team dynamics was based on trust. Best to nip doubts in the bud before they took hold. And he had to admit, Daniel’s shocked face had been one for the books. 

He could only imagine what expression would grace his features if he ever were to find out that Jack could have continued beyond the three fingers quite easily. Jack wasn’t actually sure he wanted to find out. For now at least he was off the hook. 

He remembered his mother saying, ‘the truth will out’. She was probably right. Someday it would. 

Just not today.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t speak Russian, but I know the three words mentioned in this story:  
> ‘Da’ means ‘yes’,  
> ‘Nyet’ means ‘no’,  
> ‘Nastrovje’ means ‘cheers’ (as in a toast).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
